Blood had a distinct scent to it which predators responded to far, far differently than people.
People were inclined to find the scent of blood repulsive. They were meant to try to preserve their pitifully short lives in any way they could for as long as they could until the inevitable happened and they died. It made sense, on an evolutionary basis, for humans to find their own blood repugnant in all ways. Spilling it meant they were injured at best---spilling much of it meant they were dying which was the worst case scenario.
Anything to stay alive, wasn't that how it was supposed to go for them?
Elijah could hardly remember. It seemed such a long time had passed since he himself had been human. A thousand years. Hundreds of lives lost in that time frame. So many fights. His family never ceased their squabbling. It seemed as if they had been granted eternity together for no other reason than to learn new, more creative ways to hurt each other.
There were worse wounds to be had than those which bled.
Two doors from the room he'd been placed in with some human or another, Elijah had found Hayley with Hope. They were safe. They were comfortable. They'd gone home without him in the blink of an eye which had passed between there and here, but the pair of them were still with him. He could not ask for more. He'd caught wind of the tang of blood at the same time he'd realized they would have to feed in this place. Could it be their captors were feeling generous enough to drop a meal into their laps? It certainly seemed plausible. There were less likely eventualities. The kitchen was stocked for Hope. What about their needs? Was this the way this place meant to see to them?
Excusing himself from the two most important women in his life, he'd sped out to check on the scent. It'd led him to what appeared to be a young man. One who was, for all intents and purposes, dying. His commentary brought a rueful grin to Elijah's face. He would find someone as obstinant as his brother Klaus in this place. Fighting to the very end. Such verve. It seemed wasted on their ilk. Elijah would have given far more than he had to his name to have such passion at hand any longer. All his passion had to be channeled away, funneled into demure tasks, business meetings, negotiations, treaties; someone had to be the voice of reason for their family.
"Lucky for you, I have no desire to fight either. I was hoping to find dinner. Instead I only find you. Dying. I'd say I was disappointed except it'd be a lie. I find it more an inconvenience than a disappointment. I prefer honesty in all my dealings. I can't tell you why you were brought here. I can tell you this is Test City and you're stuck here. With the rest of us. Until you die. Which doesn't smell far off in your case."
Elijah shrugged, a Gallic gesture which meant nothing and everything at once.
"I could heal you. If you want to live. Do you? Want to live? I've found it best to ask these days. With the people and---others I've been meeting? Who knows?"